


As Though It Was Enough

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Gen, Is this too many tags? Probably, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prismo's Boss is mentioned quite a bit but I don't say much about it at the same time, Social Anxiety, Their friendship fuels me, This fic is pretty Prismo and Jake centric, kind of, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_A_Valid_Opinion/pseuds/Not_A_Valid_Opinion
Summary: Jake invites Prismo to hang out with him on Ooo. Which, of course, would involve Prismo having to leave his precious Time Room- something the Wishmaster is terrified to do.(or)Prismo finally leaves his Time Room, social anxiety and slowly revealed traumatic backstory be damned.





	As Though It Was Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted a fic about Prismo on here because a lot of the stuff he says is so cryptic and vague that as a character I feel like he could be fleshed out way more and I hope that, AT gets a spin off or something because he's a rad guy. Really awkward and lots of trauma but super rad. 
> 
> And yes, Mike is the Cosmic Owl. He's not an OC- I just found it funny if he had a mundane name like Mike. He's like super powerful, and then at the end of the day he just goes to hang out with some friends and they're like, "oh hey Mike." I really only called him that because I misheard Prismo calling him 'man' in one of the episodes as 'Mike' and thought to myself, hah, Mike. What a name for a cosmic entity.

Bubbling laughter echoes throughout the room, bouncing throughout the enclosed space and thinning out only once it’s flowed out the stairway. The magic yellow dog puffs, still giggling quietly under his breath. “There’s no way you said that to another person and didn’t get slapped,” Jake pointedly says, crossing his legs on the couch he’d made of himself. 

The pink shadow scoffs. “Ya, well, it’s kind of hard to slap a wall. Actually, wait, no it-it’s pretty easy to slap a wall. Weirdly easy. It’s hard to imagine slapping a wall would hurt me, though. I mean, even if they slapped  _ directly _ where I am on the wall, it’s still the wall getting slapped, not me.” 

Jake chuckles, then blinks. “So wait. Are you  _ in _ the wall, then? I always thought you were just, like, on top of it. Like a thin piece of paper. Like, I was thinking maybe you’re a little too skinny, and need a sandwich or something, because you’re hecka flat man.” 

Primso lets out a startled laugh at the thought. “Ha! No, man, I’m not in the wall. I’m still on top of it, it’s just that… okay, you’ve seen a projector, right? It’s like that. I’m a projection- a dream. So I am on top of the surface of everything I touch in the room, but since I’m the projection of Old Man Prismo and he’s technically locked in your version of an eternal dream-”

“You lost me, man.” 

“... I’m trying to say that the wall is just all one big floor to me. Since I’m never really standing, I’m always just sort of leaning on it. Or lying on it. It depends on context? Or... maybe it doesn’t.”

“Mmmm,” Jake hums, rubbing his chin. “Nnnnope. Lost. Give me a compass with your words, man.” 

The Wishmaster sighs. “It doesn’t matter. You want more soda? You look like you’re almost out.” 

Jake wags his tail. “Oh! Hey ya, thanks for noticing bro, I could go for a cold one! But. No,” he stops, putting out his paws to halt Prismo’s movement to summon more soda, “continue with what you were saying, because I got a question I gotta ask ya. Can you like, leave the wall? If you’re not  _ in _ it, what’s keeping you  _ on  _ it?” 

There’s quiet as the cosmic being thinks up a response. “There… are a few reasons. Reason one is the most obvious and, you know, relevant; this is my Time Room. I don’t want to get into it all right now,” he starts, waving his hand around on the wall erratically as though brushing off his own sudden discomfort, “but let's just say… I don’t like the idea of leaving it unattended. The second reason is mainly due to my form. As you’ve,” he chuckles, “noticed, I’m rather flat. I could, potentially, peel myself off this wall and get out of here. I do it all the time to play the banjo, y’know,” he points out, summoning his banjo to emphasize the point. He slides his hands across the floor to the instrument where it lay leaning on the wall, lifting one hand off the yellow tile and onto the string of the instrument to plucking some messy chords quickly yet melodically. “It’s fine. Yet, I’m flat as heck, man. If I left the Time Room without some physical form for me to hold onto, like this room itself is for me, I’d float away. And there’s not even a breeze in this junction of space anymore, not since- ya. Plus, I don’t have the body strength to get up and walk out of here, I’d fold like paper. Thirdly-” 

“Wait,” Jake puts out his paws again, eyes wide in excitement. “Wait! Primso!” 

“Hello.”

“Primso,” he states again, the picks up his drink and hops off the couch, placing the cup on the floor and sitting next to it. “You can grab my drink cup, right?” 

“... Ya?” he agrees, moving his arms from the banjo along the wall and bending it onto the floor until it slides onto Jake’s can of Super Porp. 

Jake gestures at the cup something Primso isn’t certain of the social meaning for. It reminds him how little he actually gets to interact with mortal beings one-on-one. Even at his parties, if the beings present weren’t cosmic in some way, they wouldn’t talk so feverently, not like Jake was to him right now. 

 “So, lift it!”

“Um. Why?” 

Jake frowns. “Why not? You said it yourself, you can come off the wall if you really tried, right?” 

The hand freezes, then slowly releases the cup and retreats back to the floor. “Jake, I can’t. If I  _ actually _ try to seperate myself from the wall aside from my arms or hands or whatever, I’m not entirely sure now easy it will be to get me back on it. I’ve never-” he starts, then bites his tongue and looks away. 

Something seems to click in Jake’s eyes, and they soften as he puts a paw over his wrist. “Hey, it’s cool, man. You don’t gotta if it’s gonna mess ya up or anything. I was just curious, ‘cause I was thinking… well, the sun’s really beautiful. I was thinkin’ about it the other day, how nice the sun looks coming up, and just. My mind wandered to how dark and cold it is in space, and how you’re out here. Not lookin’ at the sun or nothin.” 

Prismo’s eyes dart to the paw hovering over his wrist, but really, just touching the floor. “I can see the sun from my tv,” he argues half-heartedly, his voice quiet, and the dog shakes off whatever atmosphere he’d just managed to create with a shrug. 

“It’s cool, man. Anyway, I should be heading off. Finn should be waking up, soon.” 

Jake grabs the cup with ease, takes one last swig of whatever few drops were left, and puts it back on the floor for Prismo to zap away whenever he wants. The cosmic being watches the movement, unsure of what to say but sure he should say something. “Y-ya…” he fumbles instead, and when Jake waves goodbye, he sends him off with nothing more than a shaky smile of his own. 

  
  
  


Prismo stares at the cup. He’s doesn’t have the heart to get rid of it, for whatever reason. He was always a bit of a hoarder, but for some reason, whatever point Jake was trying to make seems to live in the empty Super Porp. 

He doesn’t lift it. 

He just holds it, sometimes, then gets rid of it before the Cosmic Owl sees the next time he comes to visit. 

  
  
  


“Prismo!” Jake the Dog yells in excitement, and Prismo smiles at the sight of his friend materializing. To his surprise, his human friend is with him this time. It takes him a few seconds of awkward  _ I-can’t-remember-your-name _ smiling on Prismo’s behalf, but finally, Jake breaks the show of teeth by saying; “I brought Finn along this time! I told him about the wall thing-” Prismo continues smiling awkwardly, for a new reason, “and he had a really good idea! We wanna pitch it to you!” 

“Ya,” Finn the Human agrees, his voice more level yet still full of optimism, “and if it doesn’t work, that’s okay too! We figured, hey, what better way to know than to just ask you and go from there, huh?” 

“So…” Jake continues, and truly, Prismo is amazed by their bond- it’s tangible just from their few words how well they work together- and their presentation as the dog and human wave their arms around, “we need to know only two things from you!” 

Smiling for real now, their dynamic brushing off any unease from his mind, Prismo nods. “O… kay?” 

The two mortal beings share looks, as though deciding who will talk first without actually asking each other. The human steps forward. 

“Question one! Can you make yourself smaller?” asks Finn  _ (Finn, Finn, _ Prismo notes in his head,  _ Jake just said his name was Finn. Why is it so hard to remember? He literally just said it) _ . 

Blinking away his own internal monologue, he juggles the question around in his mind. “Like, are you asking me if I can… shrink?” 

“Ya!” Jake adds, shrinking down himself. “Like this.” 

Prismo considers this. Then, closing his eyes, he imagines pushing his physical form further and further away in his mind until his own projection becomes smaller and smaller on the wall. Before he can overthink if he was making a good decision or not, he cracks his eyes open to find himself having to look up at Finn. 

“Holy cow,” the human says. “That worked great!” 

Jake rises back to normal size, which was a bit bigger than him, now. “Nice, man. Okay, question two: are you able to leave the Time Room if you  _ don’t _ have to get up to do it?” 

Prismo’s eyebrows furrow. “Can I- wait. What are you asking of me?” 

The dog’s eyes practically glow with excitement. “Well,” he starts, and Prismo gets a sinking feeling in his gut, “you didn’t seem comfortable with the idea of getting up from the wall, and when I told Finn about it, he suggested just moving you onto a different wall- that wall being me since I can stretch an’ all if need be- and carrying you out of here. That way you aren’t getting up at all, you’re just moving onto a different solid object, like the cup you gave me last time I was here!” 

Prismo opens his mouth to respond- to  _ argue _ \- when Finn simply keeps going. 

“And we shouldn’t have to worry about not being able to come back here if your powers aren’t universal, because of the card you gave Jake-” 

“Okay, first off-” the pink being sputters, then thinks his words over, knowing he’d have to be really careful to explain anything to these kind- _ far _ too kind- people. “Actually second off, because that last point you just made should be addressed first- the Time Room doesn’t give me my powers. I have those wherever I go. And, like so- okay. That-” he stops, really thinking over his words here. “Listen. Guys. I really, really appreciate what you’re doing for me, here.” 

The mortal creatures- no, his friends, they look at him in curiosity. Waiting for an honest answer. He probably wouldn’t even need to give an explanation as to why he couldn’t go through with their plan, and they’d accept it anyway, for his sake. Even-  _ Oh. Oh, he just said it, the human _ \- Finn! Finn, the human he barely knew but has already saved him twice, seemed to have put a great deal of effort into this idea alone. 

“Is… there something wrong? Do we still need to do something? Or… do you just not want to come?” Jake asks, and Prismo owes him  _ something _ , globdamnit. 

So, he sighs. Still small, he stretches his hands out and spreads his palms at each of them, and they share eye contact with each other for a moment before they each put theirs over his. “You guys… I love you guys. Even you Finn, though Jake normally comes to visit me when you’re sleeping, so I see you, like… pfft… never,” at this, Finn gives Jake a weird look, and Jake sends him a sheepish smile back. “But… your plan would work. And that’s the problem. I could, potentially, leave the Time Room. But… things are… complicated,” he says with gritted teeth, too scared to say the whole truth, to say he’s  _ scared. _

Jake sighs. “Ya, we get it, man. Sorry for botherin’ you with this.” 

“You aren’t bothering me,” he defends quickly, hating the _ it’s-fine _ look in the dog’s eyes, “I’m honestly like, pleasantly surprised you care enough to want to see more of me that’ll you’ll try and do this. I guess I’m a hermit, though. Like, even before I was a dream, I was a hermit. I didn’t get out much, even then,” he recalls, remembering the days he wasted sitting in his home meditating or watching tv rather than going out and trying to socialize with the people he took for granted. Yet, reflecting on them was a part of his reason for staying where he was. He just didn’t know if he was ready to explain that. 

So, instead of telling them the whole truth about why he was holding off on leaving the Time Room, he tries a different route. One that’s not technically a lie, but certainly isn’t everything there is. If the words leaving his mouth cause a lump in this throat, he tries to ignore it. 

“So basically, if I leave, and someone comes to make a wish and I’m not here to grant it, my boss will kill me. Sorry guys.” 

That causes both Jake and Finn’s eyebrows to rise. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Your boss?” 

They say at the same time, sending confused and slightly alarmed looks at each other. Jake tries again, eyes narrowed; “So… it’s got nothing to do with you, it’s your boss that’s keeping you here?” 

He attempts a casual shrug. “Well, I mean, I’m not trapped here. You guys are making it sound like I’m trapped here, which I’m not. I just can’t  _ leave _ here.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Jake crosses his arms and frowns at him, snapping, “Oh, ya? What, ‘cause your boss won’t let you?” 

Prismo plasters a fake smile on his face and retracts his hands from theirs. “Okay, it’s been real nice seeing you guys again! Feel free to come back whenever, you too, Finn!” and just like that, he’s waved them away. 

He thought that once they were gone, he’d be able to breathe again. 

He isn’t. 

  
  
  


Jake doesn’t call him again for a while. 

Before he does, however, he hears about him from Mike the Cosmic Owl. 

“I think he’s avoiding me,” Prismo had been saying, moving a red piece on the checkerboard. 

“Why? ‘Cause you can’t leave the Time Room? Seems like more reason to visit,” Mike motions, and Prismo frowns. 

“I… can leave. I just… don’t?” 

Mike looks up from the board. “You’ve never wanted to before. Plus, it’s not a great idea, I mean, I don’t have to tell you that.”

The Wishmaster nods oddly but decides to drop the topic. Mike plays his piece, stealing three of Prismo’s in the move. “Aw, what…” the pink being mumbles to himself, and Mike chuckles in triumph, tossing the pieces to the side. 

They play in quiet for a few minutes, each finishing up their ends of a game Prismo was definitely losing at. When Mike inevitably wins, he hoots and clears the board while the Wishmaster chides him for cheating, despite knowing he just sucks at checkers. 

“Okay, well, I’m off. It’s gonna start getting dark on Ooo, and I’ve got some dreams to visit,” says Mike, and Prismo zaps away the board and pieces with a nod, wishing him good luck. Yet, when the owl spreads his wings to take off, he pauses, then stares at Prismo with wide eyes. “Oh, ya, I almost forgot to mention, I was spying on some dreams the other night and saw Jake’s. I mean, he’s always got such funny dreams. I was just gonna kick back and watch, but then,” he points at Prismo with a feather that captures the stars, “you were there.” 

Prismo stares dumbfoundedly. “I was?” 

“Yeah!” The Cosmic Owl hoots, “Yeah, and you were just chilling in the grass with him and Finn; you know, the Human? Just all laying there, staring at the sun. Good thing it was a dream. Your eyes would have all been gone, huh man?” 

Mike lets out a single puff of a laugh and then unfurls his wings again, this time taking off through the staircase leading to a broken void of a world beyond his Time Room. 

“Huh,” he thinks out loud to the nobody he’s gotten familiar with over the thousands of years. 

  
  
  


“I wish for world peace,” says the warthog that had somehow found his way to Prismo’s Time Room. 

Prismo clenches his teeth. “Ya, okay, props for the thought but I can’t grant that one. Like, Maybe if you were more specific? Like, what world gets peace here, and what do you define peace as?” 

The warthog huffs. “I want you to grant my wish,” he demands, stomping a hoof on the yellow floor. It makes the eternal being that’s forced to watch the movement take a deep, practiced breath. 

“Listen man, I-“ 

“How d- how  _ dare _ you deny me the peace the world deserves? You  _ will  _ grant for me, pinky!” 

Primo blinks. “Hey, now that’s just mean.” 

A series of angry noises erupt from the warthog, and Prismo patiently waits for the mortal to calm himself. Yet, he doesn’t. If anything, he seems to be getting only further upset at Prismo’s resigned silence. 

Prismo had dealt with annoying Wish Granters before. 

Some were bland at first glance. They’d come for a wish as though they were shopping for groceries. He’s seen this type of person come in groups so loud their wishes jumbled and tangled into the mess they’d received (usually not on purpose, but Prismo can’t always help that) and he’s seen that person alone, seemingly granting their wish as though it were nothing more than a chore to push through. That type of person made him feel unappreciated- as though he were just another person on the street to these people he knew nothing about aside from their deepest desires. 

Some were anything but pleased with his results. Those people, ranging from all kinds of people, would ask for things he couldn’t do or would do in a way that displeased them. When one would ask something, they’d never come prepared enough for an honest answer. Prismo would see a way to twist it, and he’d sometimes try to nudge them in the right direction; but ultimately, he knew they were there for a wish, not for him. So, he’d grant it- his way. Then they’d get mad at him. Those people made Prismo feel guilty- it wasn’t his fault they were never specific, even if they didn’t seem like bad people. 

Some were just stupid, though. Making a wish with little thought put towards its craft and then getting mad at Prismo in their own selfish, unfortunate distress. Take this Warthog, for example. Prismo could have been mean, but he doesn’t really want to be. So, if he granted ‘world peace’, he could be granting only one world nowhere near the Warthog a peace as defined by a mass murderer that resides there; that is, world peace would be the existence of nobody sans one mass murderer. But no, Prismo wasn’t going to do that- he doesn’t like the idea of destroying a world for a pig that was currently hopping in rage. 

So, he tries again. “Okay, okay, dude? Calm down. Look, I’m just tryna make sure you know what you want, because it’s not always-“ 

“How  _ dare  _ you!” He screams, shoving a hoof in Prismo’s face. “I know what I want and your job-“ Prismo hears a faint ping in the back of his head, one he’s normally pleased to hear, but the yelling is too loud for him to recognize its significance, “-and I want you to do it when I ask for it as I want it. What, do you  _ not  _ want me to be happy or something? Huh?” 

Prismo closed his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to convey his disinterest, and again this seems to fuel the guy. “Hey! Hey, look at me when I’m talking, Pinky. I was told that you grant every being in the world one wish if they find their way to you. Well, here I am! Now grant my wish, Genie!” 

That gets his attention. Now glaring, he opens his mouth to snap something back when someone else beats him to it. 

“Hey! He’s not a Genie, fart-face,” a familiar voice growls, and Prismo’s eyes snap to- oh. 

The noise he’d heard. That must have been an incoming call from… 

Jake the Dog stomps over to the guy, stretching into a larger, more intimidating version of himself and towering over the Warthog. “You got a problem with my man Prismo?” he demands, and the pig’s eyes widen for a moment before he suddenly looks ecstatic. 

“Ah! You must be his boss. I was just about to ask to speak with you!” he chimes. “This Wishmaster refuses to grant my wish. I’m trying to be a good samaritan and wish for world peace, and your  _ employee, _ ” he says with a bite, “expects me to accept he will do nothing of the sort!” 

Jake doesn’t even hesitate. “Hey, if Prismo doesn’t grant your wish he’s got a good reason for it. An’ quit treatin’ him like a tool! If he doesn’t wanna help you, then you just ain’t the kind of person who deserves to be helped. Plain and simple- now scram off!” 

The pig squeals in shocked anguish, as though he had just been shot. After a moment of outraged sputters, he storms off, hopping up to the stairway and leaping into the starry abyss. Prismo can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief before sending a concerned glance towards a dog he was beginning to consider one of his closest friends. “Um,” he starts elegantly, “sorry you, uh, had to see that. You didn’t have to-” 

Jake waves the comment away with his paw and forms part of his body into a couch for him to sit on. “Of course I did! I can’t believe the nerve of that guy. Who does he think he is, yelling at you like that?” 

Regarding the shapeshifter for a moment, he debates telling him this occurance isn’t unusual. After all, he doesn’t want to dump any of that stuff on him. After how long it was before Jake actually was seeing him now since the last time they’d  _ not-really-argued-but-he-certainly-didn’t-enjoy-the-direction-of-their-conversation _ , he was worried that Jake had nothing left to say to him- perhaps, he’d stopped wanting to visit altogether. Yet, after staring into nothing and reflecting on what Mike had revealed, the realization of why Jake had waited so long to come back made an unfortunate amount of sense. 

He didn’t want to put pressure on Prismo. 

After all of his misdirections and avoidance of certain aspects of the topic at hand, Jake had probably realized that there was more that Prismo wanted to say but clearly wasn’t saying. Jake was trying to respect that and, with nothing left to say to him if he couldn’t say something back, he stopped coming entirely. 

The realization hurt, but was logical. If Jake wanted Prismo to come with him to Ooo, and Prismo couldn’t bring himself to explain his reasoning for why he had yet to do so- what was the point? At least, for Jake, that reality would be a part of his dreams. Why bother with the Prismo in front of him, if he had that? If Prismo couldn’t conveniently come with him to his home on Ooo, then why go out of his way to visit Prismo in his broken dimension? 

Yet, he was here now. Maybe for one final visit, even. 

Prismo tries to pretend that’s fine. He’s found he’s rather good at that. 

“Don’t worry about that. Some people just get cranky when they wish for things and they’re not cut-and-dry enough for me to help right away,” he answers, after a moment. Jake still looks upset at this idea, but there’s just not much Prismo can do about that. 

“Hmmm,” he growls deep in his throat, “still ain’t right. Anyway, you wanna hear something awful? I can’t find my viola!” 

“Oh no,” the pink being utters in sympathy, his voice at bit odd at the sudden non sequitur, “that’s awful, man.” 

Jake pouts a little. “Ya, it is. I have no idea where it could have gone. Finn doesn’t know, and neither does Lady. Hopefully I find it before the next time I come up here. I wanted to show you this new song I’ve been working on, it’s really sweet, man. Would have sounded cool with your banjo to balance it out, too.” 

“Ya… wait,” he starts to agree, then catching himself. Because, wait. Next time? But… 

“What?” 

“So… stupid question, I guess, then, but… you’re coming back?”

Jake stares. He gets up off the couch he’d made from his own body and turns back into himself, walking forwards to the wall his face is on. Habitually, Prismo lowers the level of his head closer to the floor to be at closer eye-level with him. “Dude, what makes you think I wouldn’t come back? Is this because of the thing with your boss?” 

Prismo is quiet for perhaps a second too long, and Jake continues; “Because I wanna help you, bro. I know that you wanna leave, I see you stalking people all the time on your tv-” 

“I don’t stalk people. I just like to see what everybody else is up to.” 

“Ya, stalking, and you do it because you wanna be up to it, too. I know you could, but for whatever reason- something to do with your boss, or something to do with something you aren’t saying- that’s your own personal business. And as much as I wanna get involved, I also don’t wanna intrude and make things hard around here for you.” 

Jake puts his paw on the wall, next to Prismo’s head. “So, even if you wont come back to Ooo with me, I can at least come up to this yellow cube you call your home for you. An’ for as long as I can, I will. You got that, buddy?” 

It takes a second for the words to sink it, and before they fully do, Jake moves from beside his head towards it, laying his arms across the wall as though he were hugging him. 

And, after a few seconds, Prismo closes his eyes and, moving his arms from the floor along Jake’s fur, hugs back. 

It’s a lot all in one moment, then. He thinks of his sleeping form, locked somewhere in a dream dimension, safe and sound where nobody can harm it again (probably). It used to be a part of him that was so terrifying to know was out of reach- that anybody could find on that upside-down duck rock he’d left it on, if they knew to look. Now, because of Jake (and Finn, too), it was safe somewhere only he and Mike (who could pass through the dream dimensions, but he had no reason to) could find it. There was nothing but himself to guard. 

He wasn’t lying, about his boss. There were few rules in place he had to follow, and Grant All One was a huge part of that. If he wasn’t there when someone needed him, he wasn’t sure what his boss would do to him. It wouldn’t be good. Even knowing that Warthog didn’t technically get his wish granted would probably bite him in the ass, later down the line.

But, holding Jake in his arms, he remembers the reason beyond fear for staying. He was a monument- a memorial. He was more than a Wishmaster. 

He was Prismo. 

And this dog was right. He wanted to see the sun. He wanted to honour those he honoured, not stand in time and listen to the sounds of silence surrounding him. Maybe, once, that would have been a selfish pleasure, but times change. He’s changed. 

And he makes a decision. 

He pushes the image of his sleeping form away in his mind once again, feeling himself get smaller in perspective to it. Then, he opens his eyes. Much smaller than Jake now, he pulls himself fully into one big hug on the surface of his stomach fur until he’s no longer even touching the floor or the wall. 

He’s on a new surface now. 

He’s on  _ Jake _ , now. 

“Okay, let’s go,” Prismo says from the dog’s stomach fur. 

“No way. Are you serious? Isn’t this gonna get you in trouble?” Jake asks tentatively, but Prismo can feel his excitement at the idea. 

“We’ll just go for a little while, don’t worry. It should be fine. For a little while. Okay, lets go before I change my mind, though,” he says quickly, and just like that, he’s transporting them somewhere he’s not been in a long, long time. 

He leaves his Time Room. 

  
  
  


“Oh wow, the air smells so…” are his first words on Ooo, ones he can’t even finish because he simply cannot find the words. It’s odd to think his first, almost immediate thought would be  _ weird smell _ , but he was a weird guy, he supposed. 

“Ya, this place smells weirdly like berries and grass, huh? I’m not sure why it always smells like berries here. Just does,” Jake agrees, and even sounds a bit amused at the observation. “Your room always smells like stars.” 

Prismo’s eyes glance up to Jake’s chin. From where he is framed on his stomach, he can’t see the dog’s face over his jowl. He could move onto his back, he supposes, but then he’d only be seeing what Jake was turned away from. That wouldn’t be as fun. So, he hums at the thought of whatever Jake meant by ‘smells like stars’, and turns his gaze back to the scenery of Ooo. 

He wasn’t sure where to bring them, since he’d never seen this planet outside from his screen, so he figured he’d just land where he always sends Jake back to- that is, wherever Jake called him from. Which seemed to be under a tree. 

“Ah!” a small voice calls from somewhere off to the side, and Prismo searches until he spots a little blue box in a tense position he recognizes but doesn’t know the name of. After all, he doesn’t not-spy  _ too _ closely. That would be weird, and boring. “Jake! You have a little pink man on your tum-tum!” 

“BMO, this is my man Prismo! You remember me and Finn talking about him?” Jake explains, and the box- BMO- visibly calms down, their arms relaxing at their sides. 

“Oh. Yes! The Wishmaker!” 

Prismo can’t help but smile. They weren’t _ wrong. _

After a moment of silence, Jake pokes his stomach and, by default, Prismo. “Pssst,” Jake whispers, “introduce yourself, man.” 

_ Oh. _ “Oh, ya. H-hello!” he waves awkwardly, feeling oddly out of place. Sensing this, Jake takes over the conversation, briefly explaining to BMO the situation and asking where Finn was. 

“That boy is still out hanging with the Water Nomads. I ditched him because they’re just telling each other bad jokes. Want me to go and get him?” 

Jake waves a hand. “Na, it’s cool. It’s pretty late out, though. I thought he’d be sleeping by now. Anyway, I’m gonna show Prismo around a bit. Make sure Finn’s not out too late, alright BMO?”

The little computer salutes, and Jake starts walking into the grassy field. 

Prismo can see what he means. Jake had told him he normally called Prismo later in the day, and it did seem to be getting dark out. He found he couldn’t see any sun in the sky, realizing it must have been setting beyond the trees and out of view. 

Instead, he chose to focus on the trees not too far off in the distance. He could see the wind moving the branches, and couldn’t help but stare at the dark green leaves, even if they were a bit hard to make out in the dark. 

“Wow,” he breathes, and Jake stretches them closer to the forest. Up close, he can see details he wouldn’t have bothered to look for on his screen. The creases in the wood, the slight rustling noises, the chatter of conversation only bugs could hold in the dark. 

“Nice, huh man? Hey, when’s the last time you ever got out?” Jake asks, and Prismo answers with only half a mind, too busy staring at all the green surrounding them. 

“Back when my planet was still intact. Oh, the trees there were a purple-red-ish colour, nothing like this. Green is such a nice colour for a tree. I always thought that, like, to myself. That green is a nice colour on a tree, and on the grass around the tree. Do the trees here know that? Oh, wait, trees don’t do much talking on Ooo, huh. Ya, my planet neither. Sorry, I’m rambling. I just really like these trees,” he lamley tries to defend after realizing he was still talking outloud. 

Prismo slides off of Jake’s stomach onto the grass, making his way to the tree he couldn’t help staring at. They were all nice, really, but he wraps his body around the wood as though he were hugging it. 

“Heh,” he hears Jake chuckle, though it sounds a bit forced, “You, uh. You know what they say about when people hug trees!” 

Unsure of what people say about when people hug trees, Prismo allows himself to remember the textures for another moment before making his way back onto Jake’s yellow fur that did little to blend in with the scenery. “Okay, we can go.” 

“Go?” 

“Ya, somewhere else on Ooo. Take me someplace you like,” he suggests, and Jake thinks for a second before stretching them over the trees and in a specific direction. Prismo watches the view, noticing ice mountains in the opposite direction they were heading and briefly wondering what was up with that. 

Soon, they arrive at a cottage, with heart-shaped windows. Prismo had never seen this place. It was cute, and felt very homey. 

Jake knocks on the door. “Lady? Psst, Lady, you up?” 

It clicks in his mind. Lady? As in, Lady Rainicorn, Jake’s wife? Oh, Prismo had been wanting to meet her. Jake mentioned her every once in a while, and it made his heart glow, knowing Jake was with someone that made him happy. Though he himself had never managed a stable relationship, even when he was awake, he still knew how perfect they felt to be in. 

The door opens with a creak and a tired looking Rainicorn pops her head out. 

“Oh good, we didn’t wake you. I’m showing my good friend Prismo around, since he’s never seen this part of Ooo before-” he’s never really seen Ooo at all, but doesn’t feel compelled to add this, “and I wanted him to meet you. Lady Rainicorn, meet my man Prismo! Prismo, my wife Lady!”

Lady smiles tiredly at him, and the thought that she might have just been getting ready for bed enters his mind. Lady says something in Korean. Jake opens his mouth to translate, but Prismo decides to beat him to it. Jake did all the talking last time with BMO, but that was mostly due to Prismo being too taken off guard to properly hold a conversation. He owed Jake to put some effort into it, this time. After all, this was his wife. 

“Nice to meet you, too,” he says, remembering his manners. “Oh, your house smells. Nice, I mean. Like… Oh, I know this one, hold on…” he tries to put his finger on it, and Lady gives him a bright smile. 

_ “Oh, I was baking earlier today. Could it be the sugar? I feel like that’s what my house smells like, right now,”  _ she says, and Prismo snaps his fingers.

“Yes! Ah, sugar. Now that’s a universal smell,” he agrees, and from his position laying flat on Jake’s stomach, can feel the dog’s tail start to wag. 

“You speak Korean, Prismo?” Jake asks, sounding surprised yet pleased.

“Mmm, ya, I speak every language, technically. Even, like, Sign Languages. Though it’s a bit harder to do with flat hands.” 

_ “Hard to do with hooves, too,”  _ Lady notes, and Prismo finds himself genuinely laughing at the comment. Lady laughs, too, and Prismo can still feel Jake’s tail wagging.  _ “Come on, come inside! Make yourselves at home,”  _ she instructs, moving out of the doorframe so Jake can step inside, the dog leaning up to kiss her as he goes. 

  
  


_ “So… you grant every being in the world one wish?”  _ Lady clarifies, blowing on her tea. 

Prismo takes a sip of his own.

( _ “Can you… do you eat?”  _ Lady had asked. Prismo nodded, and she placed a fresh baked tart on a plate in front of him. He’d moved off of Jake to sit on the table, still small so that he didn’t take up too much space on it, then moved his arm along the table and onto the tart. Easily, he pulled it into the second dimension with him, making it as flat as a painting and taking a bite. 

Jake and Lady only stared at the action in curiosity for a moment before returning to their own mannerisms, like they’d seen weirder. 

_ “You drink tea?”  _ he’s asked, a few moments later. 

He really likes these people.) 

“Sure do. Except, I can’t grant every wish. Some, I just don’t want to but will if it’s actually doable, and others I literally can’t because they’re against the Rules of Order to grant. But hey, you get one too, if you want,” he adds, and she shakes her head and laughs. 

_ “No, no, I don’t want one! The world has given me plenty.”  _

She smiles, then, at Jake. Jake seems to beam under her gaze. 

Prismo shrugs awkwardly. “Probably for the best. My wishes usually have a catch attached, of some sort.” 

Jake guffaws. “You should have seen the wish Finn made! He made a whole new reality and everything. It would have been really funny if I wasn’t so terrified I threw up!” 

Prismo laughs along with him, but Lady just gives Jake a weird look. 

“Ya, well, you kept trying to wish for a sandwich. Like, while Finn was stuck in an alternate world. I was really worried you’d make me grant you a wish that would make you sad forever, because even then, you seemed like a really cool guy. But it all pretty much worked out, I mean, since you and Finn refused to use the Maid, that Finn is still living happily in his world with his family. So I guess it did all work out,” he recalls, “even though when you stepped away from the Maid, I for sure thought my boss was gonna have my h-” 

Silence suddenly fills the room as Prismo freezes. 

“Uh… Prismo?” Jake asks cautiously, and Prismo snaps out of it.

“Sorry, it’s nothing. Just forgot how much trouble I could get in for being here for a second. Ah, it’s fine, I’m sure. I should probably go back soon, though,” he notes, hating how stressed his voice sounds. He takes another sip of his tea, staring into the cups contents for a moment before looking up again. “What were we talking about?” 

Jake pushes forward. “Uh, wishes?” 

“Oh, ya. You know, the weirdest wish I ever received was to bring back somebody’s dead pet goldfish. Like, it’s a  _ goldfish. _ You could wish for something actually cool, but nope.  _ Goldfish.  _ Normally when someone wishes for a dead something to come back, I just send them back in time to before they died, rewriting the timeline where they still have their memories. That way, they can choose to save their loved one from dying if possible, or can just spend more time with them or whatever. But, like, this was a non-sentient goldfish we’re talking about. That would have just been weird.” 

Lady raises her eyebrows.  _ “What did you do?”  _

“Oh, I just edited the timeline so their fish was young and back with him in his current place in time. Every time the fish dies, now, the fishes’ life restarts back where it started when it was young. I  _ basically _ made that fish immortal until the guy who wished for it dies.” 

Her jaw drops.  _ “Wow. That’s… a lot of power you’ve got there. It’s a good thing you’re not someone who uses it for bad.”  _

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well. Thanks, I guess. But I can easily use it for bad, if it’s a clear-cut wish that doesn’t leave much room for a work around.” 

Jake hums uneasily. “Is that why you granted the Lich’s wish to destroy all life?” 

“... Well, yes. Everybody gets one wish, even if it’s awful. I try and help people when I can to make a better wish, but the Lich was pretty darn specific, and I can’t argue with an agent of Golb. That’s, like, another rule. I can’t mess with Golb or anything relating to him.” 

The two freeze. Prismo, more than they know, understands the wave of unsettling silence that falls over the table at the mere mention of the Master of Discord. 

“Y… ya,” Jake mumbles, and Lady nudges him with her head. Jake smiles at her, though it has less energy. “Sorry, it’s just…. Glob, Golb sucks. He’s gone  _ now _ , but…” 

“Ya. I had someone from Ooo visit me and ask if I could bring their dead wife back after she, like, merged with him or something? I’m not entirely sure what happened. I couldn’t see anything on my tv. But I couldn’t help him, because anything Golb does is, well... final. I… I know what you mean, though. And what that man meant when he asked for my help. If I could have helped-” 

“Oh, it’s not your fault, dude. Things happen the way they happen. And that must have been Simon. I didn’t realize he knew about you.” 

“Well,” he admits, “I’m actually pretty well known. Like, on multiple universes, planets and dimensions. He probably read about me somewhere,” he suggests, rubbing his arm awkwardly and wishing the topic to be over, regretting having even mentioned it, “or, maybe Finn told him about me?”

Jake crosses his arms. “Na, he would have told me, I’m sure.” 

Prismo hums and stares into space for a moment, unable to stop the images of the multiple travellers who had come to him, begging for a wish that could stop Golb. He would  _ try _ , but it would never work, and eventually he’d realized it was simply undoable. Nothing could undo the damage done at the hands of the chaos deity- not even Prismo. 

No matter how much it hurt. 

_ “Have you ever seen him?”  _ Lady asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.  _ “You talk of him almost as though you know him.”  _

A shiver runs down his spine. 

The silence that falls on the table is entirely his own, this time. Jake’s eyes are wide with confusion, and he gives Lady a startled look at the question, then looks back to Prismo. There must have been something that shone in his own blue eyes, because the dog’s face falls. “Prismo?” he asks gently, as though worried for his answer. 

“Ohhh,” the cosmic being sighs a bit shakily, “I don’t want to, uhhh,” he laughs in pure discomfort, “get into all that right now. Especially after what happened here on Ooo… It’s not really worth bringing up. But, um, we should maybe start heading out soon. I can’t stay away from the Time Room for too long, especially since I haven’t left it unattended in ages and don’t like the idea of someone trying to get to it if I’m not there or anything…” 

Jake is still giving him a weird look, and Prismo focuses on his now empty cup instead. “I-Is there anywhere else you wanted to show me, Jake? I don’t have to be going  _ yet, _ but…” 

The dog looks at his wife, whose expression is blank but voice is soft.  _ “Maybe you can take him to the Candy Kingdom? He might enjoy the atmosphere there, and it’s not too far away if you stretch,”  _ she suggests, and Jake pushes out his chair and stands up. 

“Ya, that’s a great idea, Lady. You want to come?” he asks.

_ “No, thank you,”  _ she says,  _ “I’m gonna go to bed. The sun isn’t even up yet, honey.”  _

Jake frowns, then sags a bit. “Oh, ya. I forgot about the time. Hey, Prismo, maybe we should wait for another day, when it’s lighter out and you can see more of the Candy Kingdom. You can leave the Time Room again, right?” 

Prismo frowns, but nods his head anyway, despite not being certain he actually can. If his Time Room was still alright despite him not being there, then perhaps he could chance another outing- yet, it was all extremely dependent on the situation. So he gives Jake a thumbs up, but isn’t certain if he means it. 

 Hastily, he returns the cup full of almost-finished tea to the third dimension, placing it down on the cup coaster provided. “Okay! Well, this has been lovely. Truely. Lady, your house smells amazing and your cooking is wonderful, and the tea was better than any tea I could have made for myself. Thank you for staying up so late to talk with us, it- it means a lot to me. And Jake,” he turns his eyes to the dog over at the window, who was starting to walk back over, “You gave me the courage to come out here today. I mean, I haven’t left my Time Room in about 10, 000 something years, really. So ya, getting out was a nice change that I was just really, really worried to make. And hey, if everything ends up okay I want you guys to visit me, both of you, whenever you want! Maybe I’ll even try to come down here again, during the day, like you said. I’ve still got to see that sun, huh, Jake?”  

Jake wags his tail. “Ya, man. We’ll come visit you soon!” 

Prismo smiles. “Cool. Okay, so… bye.” 

He closes his eyes and transports himself away.

  
  
  


The Time Room is fine, if a little less yellow then when he’d left it. He travels along the folds in the wall and lets the flow of the room surround him until it’s the same shade it should be, and can’t help but pant at the energy it took to restore even just it’s tint. 

  
  
  


Jake and Lady show up while he’s playing a card game with Mike. 

“Oh, oh, who’s winning?” Jake asks, running over to them. 

“Hello to you too,” the Cosmic Owl greets, turning to look at Lady. “And whoooo’s this?” 

Lady sticks out a hoof and introduces herself, and Prismo waves at them to get Mikes attention as he lays down four cards. 

Mike’s beak drops. “No way.” 

“Ah ha! Yes way!” 

“No!” he cries out, slamming the rest of his cards down in anguish and brushing his feathers over his face while Prismo laughs. 

He turns to the two mortals. “Sorry. Hey, guys. I just flipped Mike like an omelette,” he brags. 

Mike points a brave feather in his face. “Ya, okay, pure luck. This is the first time he’s beaten me at cards in, like, 4,000 years.” 

Jake and Lady giggle. “No way. You bad at cards, Pris?” 

“Oh, ya, totally. I don’t know what it is about hand-to-hand games, but I’m, like, dumpster fire at them. But hey, I’ve got witnesses to prove I won this time,” the Wishmaster smirks, and Mike rolls his eyes, mumbling under his breath  _ this time.  _

Prismo summons a long couch for both Jake and Lady to fit on, and they look at the newly appeared furniture for a moment before Lady shrugs and takes a seat, Jake following right after. Prismo makes a bag of Jake’s favourite chips appear on his side of the couch, which he grabs without even looking up and pulls open. He asks what Lady would like, and Lady smiles and politely declines the offer, which Prismo feels warm at as we waves away the card game he’d been playing. 

Mike claps his wings together. “Okay! What next? Movie? Board Game?”

_ “Why don’t we go visit the Candy Kingdom? Princess Bubblegum is throwing a party, and she invited you,”  _ Lady suggests, and both Prismo and Mike freeze. 

“Um-” Prismo starts, and Mike cuts him off. 

“Why’d she invite you, Prismo?” he asks, his voice with a somewhat harsh edge too it. 

Lady and Jake both seem to have heard the tension in his voice, because the give each other looks before Lady tries to answer what Prismo can’t.  _ “Oh, well, I… told her about you.” _

Mike crosses his wings. “And how do you two know each other?” he almost demands, and to his side, Prismo tries to make a stop-talking motion, but Mike shoots a glare his way and he’s forced to awkwardly stop. 

Lady shuffles on the couch.  _ “Well… Jake introduced him to me.” _

Mike doesn’t back down. “Where?” 

Prismo sighs. “Alright, Cosmic Owl, enough. Look, without my physical form existing in the physical world, there’s nothing keeping me in the Time Room. I usually just stayed here to make sure nothing happened to me, but after the Lich killed me, Jake and Finn allowed my body to exist in the Dreamscape instead. It’s way safer there then here. So, without my body, all that’s left to attend to is the Time Room, which I didn’t leave for long.”

“You shouldn’t have left it at all!” Mike cries. “Dude, if the Boss finds out-”

“What,” Prismo scoffs with false confidence, “would happen that sucks  _ so _ bad, man? The Boss is obviously not to go up against. But, how is leaving the Time Space every once in a while so bad? And don’t list the reasons, because I know the reasons, and I’m  _ still _ making my point.” 

Mike sighs. He takes a moment, rubbing his beak with his feather, before looking back at the Wishmaster. “Dude, I’m just worried, okay? What about your social anxiety? What about this dimension, huh? What about what  _ makes _ you a Wishmaster?” 

Prismo bristles, understands, and steadies himself. “Trust me, dude. It’s been 10,000 years. I know I’m not,” he waves a hand around, “ _ great _ at being social, but this… this isn’t my home. There’s nothing left to mourn but, like, rocks,” he gestures to the stairs leading outside. “There’s nothing left to hold onto, and staying here just to keep their memory alive isn’t enough. It’s too late, man. I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta move on.” 

There’s quiet following this admission. Prismo bites the bottom of his lip and looks at nothing, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his chest. No matter how many times he’d thought about how he truly felt, nothing validated it more than words- more than saying it to Mike, his best friend in all the cosmos. 

Because, time had lost its meaning. Everything outside of his Time Space had grown more and more desolate until it had lost any resemblance to what it used to be. There was no more gravitation, no more wind, no more feeling. The air that surrounded the rocks was stale and empty, and the only remnant of the life that used to be there. 

_ He _ was the only remnant of the life that used to be there. 

And, no matter how long he stayed near his home, it never would be that again. The Time Space was an attempt to surround himself in what he used to have, and it was no longer anything but a reminder of what he lost. 

What he didn’t even appreciate when he had, and had paid the price for. 

So, there was nothing to keep him there. There was no purple trees or red grass or glowing rivers to hug or breath in or touch. There was nothing left of it but himself, and staying in his Time Space did nothing but remind him of this. Nothing was left to keep him there but his job and to ensure the safety of the Time Space. If he was to be a memorial, where he went shouldn’t matter. If he wanted to leave once in a while, him leaving, so long as he returned to grant his wishes, should be no more of an issue than him remembering that which he hadn’t seen in 10, 000 years every time he closed his eyes. 

He looks Mike back in the eyes, knowing his will would not be swayed. 

Mike crumples under his gaze. 

“Okay,” he submits, eventually. He breathes in a shaky breath and exhales with a hoot. “Okay, dude. But next time you leave, you gotta tell someone. You can’t leave this place unattended, and you know you can’t leave it for long. It _ is _ you, man. You gotta be here to keep it alive and safe. Just… tell someone, tell  _ me, _ and I’ll watch it while you’re gone and call you if someone comes to make a wish.” 

Prismo slides along the wall over to him and wraps himself along his body in the biggest hug he could possibly give. He’d never been a super big hugger, but right now, in this moment, couldn’t let go. Even if all he could do for Mike was wrap around him and squeeze, it was still a hug. 

Mike hugs back. “Be careful, dude. Call me if you ever need any help.” 

Prismo breathes in. Mike never smelled like much, but now, this close up to him, he can finally understand what Jake meant when he said his place smelled like stars. 

  
  


Prismo goes to the party. He stays for a few hours, meeting people and granting wishes for any Candy person that asks (they’re mostly for simple things, like a friend or a hug or a new sofa. He doesn’t twist their words. He can understand they think more than they say, and doesn’t feel like putting words in their mouth. So, for once, he tries to be literal. If someone asks for a new bed, he takes one from someone on the other side of Ooo that’s already got three. When another asks for a hug, he just asks another Candy person to hug them and doesn’t count it as their wish. He’s feeling generous. He’s feeling alive.)

The Candy Kingdom is lovely. The party is a bit lame, but Prismo, for once, enjoys socializing with the new crowd. He treats it like any party he’d throw and mostly just watches others, though he isn’t in charge of making sure everyone has food and drink so he can act like a guest, instead. He’s not a topic at the party- just another guy attending, even if he sticks to Jake or the ground for the most part. 

Princess Bubblegum is there with her girlfriend, Marceline. They’re both really nice, even if Marceline makes a comment about his shade of pink being close enough to red to taste good, and Bubblegum hints that she’d like to experiment with his projected form and see if it could be harnessed like an energy. Jake tells them to stop joking and that they’re being weird, but Prismo doesn’t mind. Sure, they’re weird people, but they both have kind eyes and neither ask him for a wish, which helps him relax in their presence. The only thing he’s asked by them is if he likes the music Bubblegum has playing- apparently, a recording Marceline made of herself singing- and Prismo answers that he likes the guitar solo but is more of a folk man himself. Marceline’s face makes both him and Bubblegum bubble up in laughter. 

Lady and Jake and Prismo hang out together for most the night. They stay out even when the party starts to subside, and they all watch as the sun starts to rise in the distance, bringing a new day with it. Prismo leans against a tree that smells different from the one Jake had shown him last time, the two mortals laying in the grass around him.

“How do you like it, then?” Jake asks. 

“The party? It was great,” says Prismo. 

“No. Well, ya, that, but the sunrise, man. Look at the sun.” 

Prismo does. He has to squint and looks more around it than directly at it, something he never had to do with his television. The feeling he gets as he stares at the real thing makes his chest flutter. 

“Wow,” he breathes out. “It’s amazing. Kinda hurts to look at, so that’s cool.”

They sit like that for a while, just watching the sun rise up slowly, every so often inching its way up further. Prismo takes care to memorize everything around him. It’s all so new, yet, not brand new. It’s… real. Tangible. It makes him feel alive, like more than just a dream. 

Jake squiches further into Lady’s hair, leaning against her as they rest on the ground. “Hey Pris.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can… I ask you what happened? Between you and the Cosmic Owl?” 

Prismo looks back to the sun before averting his eyes as they start to hurt. His eyes make their way to Jake and Lady, who both watch him with open eyes, eyes he could stare into for hours, that mean so much more to him than their sun. 

“Ya,” he says. “Of course. What do you want to know?” 

Jake swallows. “What did he mean when he started talking about what  _ makes _ you a Wishmaster?” 

The pink entity’s eyes widen a bit before he looks for the words. “Okay. Ya. Sure. Well, you know I was a guy before I was a Wishmaster, right? I wasn’t born this way. I was dreamt. I was created in the mind of the man that I used to be. And… my body didn’t just fall asleep one day and make me because of it. I was made as a reminder, really.” 

Lady tilts her head.  _ “A reminder of what?”  _

Prismo’s eyes fall to the root of the tree his back bends at, his hips and legs on the ground just below it. “A reminder of my home. My home planet, that is. My whole dimension. It was all destroyed by Golb.” 

The two freeze. Prismo does his best to not let the story fall short there, and pushes forwards, “he attacked my whole dimension, killing everyone he could find, absorbing them, taking them. Someone summoned him, I guess. He made it to my planet, and nobody survived.” 

He looks into their eyes. “Nobody but me, anyway. Golb killed everyone on my planet but me. I’m not really…  _ sure  _ why. What was different about me. Maybe it was the Wishmaster inside of me, maybe it was something else,” his voice slows, as he ponders the thought once again. But, looking up at Jake’s wide eyes and Lady’s hoof over her mouth, he swallows and moves on. “I… think it was unfair, though, that it was me that he left. I was the only one on my whole, friendly planet with nothing to lose. I was such a hermit, staying inside all the time and watching movies and calling delivery services anytime I needed anything just so I wouldn’t have to do much. I was… really, like, the least deserving person. Well, I shouldn’t say that, actually. That makes it sound like I was, like, spared or something. I was probably just so lonely he didn’t notice me,” he tries to joke, but Jake and Lady are both up and hugging the tree he’s leaning against before he’s even finished his last word, as though it was enough. 

Prismo was surprised by it, but should have expected it. Jake was always a very affectionate dog, and he couldn’t have fairly judged Lady to be anything less. Before them, the only real friend he’d had was Mike. Anybody else was those who came for wishes who he’d found enduring enough that, motivated purely by his desire to not repeat his behaviour, he’d invite back for parties and get-togethers. Even then, time would pass and they’d stop coming, mortal as they were. 

It was part of the reason why, when he was a person and not a dream, he’d isolated himself. He wasn’t trying to be alone- he’d never really even thought of it at the time. He had no family, yet had inheritance money that his parents had left before they’d died at such young age. He never knew what killed them, and was too scared to venture out, as though he’d suffer the same fate. He didn’t want to make friends, didn’t want to lose them. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to lose himself. He lived a life of comfort in his little house, something he refused to see as anything other than his own little world. 

The worst part of it was that he didn’t mind. He’d be friendly to the delivery girl who brought him whatever he ordered, would order things just to see her sometimes. He wasn’t anti social, he was just- he was complicated. He couldn’t hold relationships. He wanted to. Yet, there was always a reason why he couldn’t. He was always so  _ scared  _ to get close to people. This was something he knew about himself, processed in his own way, and used as an excuse to stay walled up in his house, sometimes just watching people in the distance out his window. Even his  _ house  _ was further away from everybody else's. 

When everything was lost, his Boss told him few things. That he was a new being, yet nothing new to himself. He was the last of his planet, the one sole survivor, and a Wishmaster. He’d fallen asleep and would never wake up unless he was woken- a cosmic crime- and he was there to give back to the universe he’d inevitably turned his back on. He’d met many new people- something that, at first, scared him so much. His Time Room became his new house, one that he’d never leave, just as he’d never left his planet’s home. 

He never had, technically, until Jake and Finn came along- his dimension had split apart, his planet completely decimated, and yet his body remained asleep in his unfurnished little home of so little significance. When they’d moved it, he’d looked at himself for what he thought would be one last time. His empty, hollow form of a man too scared to look outside for fear of catching someone’s eyes, now looking in his own and prepared to die like his parents, like his  _ home _ , for a dog and his best friend. 

He’d changed so much, yet so little. He’d still never seen the world, but he’d seen their eyes. That was a galaxy in its own. So, when Jake had asked him to come, it hurt to say no- but that was all he knew how to do. 

Feeling Jake and Lady’s bodies against his own excuse of a body, at that moment, was the result of him taking a stance. Changing himself. Finally doing more than surviving Golb, but  _ living  _ despite him. He was a reminder of his whole- all that was lost, all he would lose- and he was finally seeing the sun. 

He lifts his arms from the grass and slides them along their bodies. He hugs back, as though it was enough. 

And maybe it was. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to eva-d on tumblr for the headcanon that the last person alive on a planet becomes a Wishmaster. 
> 
> I'm so hungr y.... like and comment 2 feed a poor me


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